


No Finer Friend

by Willowe



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aromantic Frodo, Aromantic Frodo Baggins, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Frodo/Sam Relationship, Queerplatonic Relationships, mentioned Sam/Rosie relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15105284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowe/pseuds/Willowe
Summary: He wants, and he wants, and he wants-- but it’s not like that. It’s not romantic or physical, but it’s not less intimate for what it lacks.





	No Finer Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Aggressively Arospec Week '18. 
> 
> Many thanks to @fatalcookies who watched FotR and decided, "[Frodo] doesn't want romance he wants adventure." Though there isn't much adventuring in this- just the aftermath of it all.
> 
> Additional warnings for the emotional and psychological toll that the Quest had on Frodo (including feelings of brokenness and moments of dissociation).

They don’t speak about it, at first. There’s hardly any time for discussions of that sort anyway, between the reunions, the recountings, the pomp and circumstance and the improbable journey home. And, in some regards, it’s hardly something that needs to be discussed at all.

Something has shifted between them, so subtle at first but thrown into stark relief now that they are once again amongst others. It’s there in the way Sam reaches for him after a nightmare. The way Frodo is loathe to let Sam out of his sight. The things that pass between them unsaid, spoken in a language that doesn’t need words to be understood. Frodo knows that something is different, something beyond the way the Ring irrevocably changed him, something beyond the simple camaraderie of the Fellowship, and he knows that Sam feels it too.

But knowledge alone isn’t enough to change things and in too many ways everything remain frighteningly the same. Hobbiton is the same. Bag End is the same. The Green Dragon is the same, and Rosie Cotton is the same, and Sam’s feelings for her are the same (if his publically demonstrative proposal is any indication)-- but whatever those feelings are, Sam still smiles at Frodo like _that_ , like there’s something between them that no one else knows about. A secret that the two of them are keeping from the world.

It makes Frodo want, like he’s rarely wanted before. Not physically-- he doesn’t want intimacy, not like that-- but he wants closeness. He wants Sam at his side. He wants to reach for him, and know he’s there. He wants to comfort, and be comforted-- to talk, and laugh, and cry, to feel Sam’s presence close by as he falls asleep.

He wants Sam smiling at him, like that, forever.

The physical distance between them now that they’ve returned home is disorienting, never mind how short that distance actually is. Frodo can’t acclimate back to life in Hobbiton, no matter how hard he tries, no matter what sort of front he puts on around others. It feels like he’s stepped out of time with the rest of the world, like he’s put the Ring back on and is looking at the others through that hazy film. Some days, Frodo can pull himself out of that fog. Some days, Sam is the only one who can seem to reach him, and bring him back into the light-- but Sam isn’t always there, despite both their best efforts.

Some days, it feels like Frodo is losing his mind and the things that seemed so simple when they were beyond the borders of the Shire become confusing in their own right. Does he only want that closeness with Sam because he’s selfish-- because some days, it feels like Sam’s presence is the only thing holding him together? Or does he want that closeness because he loves Sam romantically, not as a brother, not like he loves Pippin and Merry?

Frodo doesn't think it's the latter, but he can't be sure. Romantic love isn't an emotion that he has much experience with-- or any experience with, if he's being honest with himself. He had thought, when he was younger, that he was just like Bilbo-- a late bloomer, and queer in more ways than one. He's no longer sure if that's the case; at the very least, it doesn't explain everything about him and he's not sure what can explain the rest.

The former option, though, doesn't sit well with Frodo. He doesn’t like the idea of being that selfish, of only wanting Sam around for what he can do for Frodo-- even if Merry and Pippin and, yes, even Sam himself would say that Frodo is entitled to a little selfishness, after everything he sacrificed for the sake of the Quest.

No. There is more there than just that. There has to be-- but what it is, and what it means for the two of them, is now a mystery to Frodo.

 

* * *

  

There's a knock on the front door of Bag End, late on the night before the wedding. There’s few people who would be troubling him this late, but Frodo still has to take a moment to calm his racing heart and look through the peek-hole before he opens the door to let Sam step inside.

“I hope I didn’t wake you, Mister Frodo,” Sam says.

“Not at all,” Frodo assures him. It’s not uncommon these days for him to have trouble sleeping and, truth be told, he hadn’t even tried to lie down yet that night. “Though, if I’m being honest, I am surprised to see you here. I would’ve thought that you’d be sound asleep yourself.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sam admits, “and ‘sides, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about for awhile now, and I couldn’t go through with tomorrow without sayin’ something.”

“What is it, Sam?” Frodo asks, confused and concerned as the world starts to go hazy around the edges of his vision again. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine, Mister Frodo,” Sam is quick to say-- and then he smiles that smile, and Frodo’s world comes back into focus and he knows what this long-overdue conversation is going to be about. “I just wanted to say-- Well, you mean a lot to me, Mister Frodo, and that isn’t going to change just on account of how I’m getting married tomorrow. Just ‘cause I’m marrying Rosie Cotton doesn’t mean I’m gonna love you any less.”

Frodo inhales sharply, caught off-guard by the frankness of Sam’s words. “Sam--”

“I know we don’t talk about it,” Sam continues, as if he prepared this speech and he’s determined to see it through to its end. “But I do. Love you, that is, and I know you feel similar which is about the only reason I’m brave enough to say this now.” Sam clears his throat, a little awkwardly, and adds, “And whatever you want from me, well, you can have it.”

“All I want is for you and Rosie to be happy together,” Frodo says. It’s a lie-- that isn’t _all_ he wants, not by a long shot, but now that Sam is here and they’re having this conversation he finds that he’s afraid-- afraid of saying too much and pushing Sam away, or saying too little and having even more regrets to live with. But this-- wishing Sam well, and keeping the status quo-- this he can manage.

“Well, make no mistake I appreciate that, I really do, Mister Frodo,” Sam says, still smiling, _always_ smiling at Frodo, “but that isn’t what I meant. What do _you_ want from me?” He motions between the two of them. “From this? From us?”

What does Frodo want? He knows, of course, what his heart desires, but he doesn’t know if he has the strength to speak it aloud.

“I want-- I want you here, by my side, always,” Frodo says and it takes effort to force the words out. “I want to fall asleep beside you, and I want to see you when I wake up. I want _you_ \--”

“You have me,” and the smile that Sam gives him is so bright that it nearly makes Frodo cry.

“--but I don’t want anything else that might go with a relationship like that,” Frodo finishes because that’s the difference. He wants, and he wants, and he _wants_ \-- but it’s not like that. It’s not romantic or physical, but it’s not less intimate for what it lacks.

“Mister Frodo, the only thing that goes with that is me,” Sam says, “and the only thing I want from you is _you_.”

“But Rosie-”

“Rosie knows,” Sam interrupts, and never before has Frodo been shocked to silence with just two words. “I reckoned if we were to be married, well, she ought to know everything about me. And she gave her blessing.” Sam’s face flushes, just slightly, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Well, to a point. So I reckon it’s for the best that you don’t want that anyway.”

Frodo’s laugh startles Sam- and startles Frodo too, for that matter, but after a moment Sam beams at him and Frodo feels a weight lift off his heart, like he once again lost a great burden that had been wearing him down. Still, there’s more he has to say. “What if this is a bad idea?” Frodo asks, and hates that he has to ask it. “What if- what if this doesn’t last?”

“Then I’ll take what you can give me, and be more than happy with that,” Sam says, as if it’s that simple.

Frodo thinks of a letter, buried deep in a drawer in his desk-- a letter from Gandalf, with an offer to once again leave the Shire, this time for good. He wonders if it would hurt Sam less to turn him down here, to walk away from what’s being offered in order to spare his dearest friend worse pain in the future-- but he doesn’t think he would be strong enough to do that.

He could make promises-- tell Sam that they have forever, tell Sam he can have everything-- but they would be lies. Frodo may not have yet responded to Gandalf, but he knows in his heart that his days in Middle Earth are numbered, and he hardly has _everything_ to give Sam-- just the broken, disparate pieces of himself that returned from the Quest. Perhaps, if he’s fortunate, that will be enough.

“So where do we go from here?” Frodo eventually asks instead. “Now that this is out in the open, what happens now?”

“Whatever we want, I suppose,” Sam says and he gives Frodo a look, a look that says that he’s once again planning on following Frodo to the ends of the world-- and Frodo has to wonder, not for the first time, what he’s ever done to deserve someone like Sam looking at him like that.

Frodo could give any response now and Sam would go along with it. He could ask Sam to give him space, and Sam would-- but Frodo doesn’t want space. He thinks of all the things Sam has said, the promises of love and promises of everything, and he thinks maybe, this once, he deserves a bit of selfishness.

He holds out a hand to Sam and asks, “Come to bed with me?”

Sam takes his hand without hesitation and, though he already knows the way, he lets Frodo lead them back to his bedroom.

 

* * *

  

Frodo wakes early, as is common for him these days. What is uncommon, though, is how relaxed he feels. He has no memory of waking from a nightmare, and he thinks he might have slept through the night without issue-- a strange and rare occurrence, but certainly a welcome one.

He feels Sam against his back, still sleeping, his breath warm against Frodo’s neck. Part of Frodo wants to turn around and see him, to make sure that Sam is truly there and not a half-dream created by the desperation of Frodo’s loneliness. But he knows this is real, knows that Sam is real and really here, and he doesn’t want to move for fear of waking him.

It is early, the sun not yet risen and hours to go before the wedding. Frodo wills his body to relax once more, the tension bleeding out of him easier when Sam shifts in his sleep, tucking closer to Frodo as if loathe to let any distance come between them. Frodo thinks of Sam’s words from the night before, still overwhelmed not only at the fact that he’s allowed to have this but also at the fact that Sam wants this as much as Frodo does.

Frodo closes his eyes, and breathes out slowly, and for the first time since returning to the Shire, Frodo feels like he has finally come back home.


End file.
